


Absolutely Ridiculous

by LugianBeforeSwine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galaxy Garrison, Garrison AU, M/M, Mutual Pining, lance's mom is right about everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 11:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14893461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LugianBeforeSwine/pseuds/LugianBeforeSwine
Summary: Hunk’s eyebrows go up. “You told Keith,” he says slowly, “that you failed a test?”“Yes, okay?” Lance cries, now tugging violently at the rug. “It’s a long story, but we were arguing, and trig came up—”“Trigonometry came up,” Hunk interrupts, deadpan. “In your argument.”Lance is very good at denying his feelings. It takes a phone call, a river, and several hundred hours of Hunk and Pidge cajoling him for him to realize that what he wants isn't as much of an impossibility as he once thought.





	Absolutely Ridiculous

“You love him,” she says, and he can hear the smile in her voice.

“Mom!” he shouts, cupping his hand over the earpiece, forgetting for a moment that he’s alone in the phone room.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about!” she says, her tone soft and reassuring. “From the way you’ve described him, he seems like a very nice young man—”

“Ugh,” Lance groans into the receiver. “Seriously, Mom? He is like the least nice person I have met in all my time here. Which is really saying something.”

“Hmm,” his mom says, and Lance can picture her tapping her fingers against her chin. “I just can’t see that being the case. Especially after what you told me last week, about him meeting you out by the river—”

“Jesus, Mom.” Lance runs a hand over his face, feels how hot his skin is, and vows never to bring up the subject of Keith to his mother ever again. “Look, my next class starts soon, so I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Oh, Lance,” she sighs, “my poor, poor boy. I love you, sweetheart.”

His eyes narrow in confusion, but he shakes it off. “Love you too,” he says, and hangs up the phone.

“How sweet,” someone drawls from the direction of the doorway. Lance shoots out of his chair and turns toward the source of the voice. Keith is leaning casually against the doorframe, smirking in a way that could only be described as infuriatingly attractive, and Lance quickly swallows an undignified squeak before it can exit his mouth.

“How long have you been standing there?” he demands, then thinks better of it and shoves past him out the door, muttering, “Don’t answer that.”

“Hey,” Keith says, and Lance turns back to look at him, willing his heartbeat to slow down. “There’s a pop quiz in McCloud’s class today. I heard everyone bitching and moaning about it in the hallway earlier.”

Lance bites his lip. “Thanks, man,” he says finally, then books it back to his dorm room.

Half an hour later, he scores 100% on the quiz.

-

“Hate to break it to you, dude…again…but you totally have feelings for this guy. Like, romantic feelings. Mushy feelings. I’m pretty sure you wanna, like, kiss him and stuff.” Hunk hangs upside-down off his bunk bed, ostensibly doing sit-ups, but actually attempting to read a comic book that lies open on the floor.

“Hunk, my dude, my guy, the blood is rushing to your head. You’re delirious. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Hunk ignores him. “Could you flip the page for me?”

“Just get down!” Lance shouts.

“This is training for the anti-grav simulator!”

“I don’t think they’re gonna be having us read comic books while we float around in zero-G! Ugh.” Lance roughly runs his hands though his hair. “Why is he like this?”

“If…you don’t…like him…” Hunk says, his words punctuated by grunts as he makes a futile attempt at reaching the comic on the floor, “then why…do you talk…about him…so much?”

“I don’t talk about him that much!” Lance says petulantly. He rolls off their futon and onto the ground, absently reaching for Hunk’s comic.

“Lance!” Hunk hisses, but Lance ignores him, picking it up and turning the pages idly.

“I mean, yeah, he’s nice to me sometimes; like today, I totally wouldn’t have been prepared for that quiz if he hadn’t warned me—”

Hunk makes a soft “oof” noise as he hauls himself back up onto his bed, then climbs down the ladder to join Lance on the floor, plucking the book out of his roommate’s hand. Lance doesn’t seem to notice.

“—but then other times, he totally makes fun of me! I even overheard him talking to Shiro about me last week—”

“Hold up,” Hunk says, the comic slipping from his fingers as he leans closer to Lance. “He was talking to _Shiro_ about you?”

“Yeah, Shiro’s like, his role model or something.”

“Lance, Shiro is everyone’s role model.”

“But he’s actually mentoring Keith. I think. Anyway, the point is that I’m sure he was making some wiseass remark about how I totally bombed the last trig test or something.”

Hunk tilts his head to regard his friend. “How would Keith know you did poorly on a trig test? And why would he care?”

Lance side-eyes him, picking at a frayed piece of the area rug they’re sitting on. “I told him.”

Hunk’s eyebrows go up. “You told Keith,” he says slowly, “that you failed a test?”

“Yes, okay?” Lance cries, now tugging violently at the rug. “It’s a long story, but we were arguing, and trig came up—”

“Trigonometry came up,” Hunk interrupts, deadpan. “In your argument.”

Lance barrels on as though his roommate hadn’t spoken. “And somehow it got out that I failed the test, and then later that day I heard him say my name when he was talking to Shiro, and so obviously he was telling him what an idiot I am!”

Hunk places his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “First of all, Lance, you’re not an idiot. And second of all, gosh, alright, you are kind of an idiot, but not in the way that you think you are.”

Lance stares blankly at him. “That made no sense, my dude.”

Hunk meets his gaze for a moment, then claps him roughly on the back. “I gotta go pee.”

Lance snorts. “Whatever, man.”

-

“There you are,” says Takashi Shirogane, arguably the most talented pilot that the Garrison has ever produced in its one-hundred-plus-year history of consistently producing the world’s best pilots. “Do you have a few minutes?”

Lance’s mouth opens, but no words issue forth. He closes his mouth, then opens it and tries again. “Yes, umm, yes. I do.”

Shiro laughs, taking a seat next to Lance at his otherwise-vacant table in the library. Lance always studies on the first floor, where talking is allowed. The background chatter makes it easier for him to concentrate. “I don’t have a lot of time right now, so I’m going to cut to the chase. Keith told me that you might be struggling in one of your classes. Trig, right?”

Lance’s eyes widen. Why was Shiro bringing this up? Was he going to face disciplinary action for failing one test? Why the hell did Keith have to go and open his stupid fucking mouth, not that Lance could possibly be upset about some individual attention from Shiro, regardless of the reason for it, but still, Keith should never have—

“Lance?” Shiro asks, waving a hand in front of his face. “You with me? I want to help you. I have what I guess you could call office hours, when students can come to me for help with their classes. Not too many people take up the offer, but that just means I have more time to devote to individuals. Just swing by Anderson’s office any Tuesday or Thursday around 7. I have my own little work station in there. Okay?”

Lance nods, completely unsure of what to say. Did Keith…? No, Keith would never do something this nice. Especially not for him. “Thanks, umm,” Lance chokes out at last.

“I know what you’re gonna say next, but I’m not a professor and I have no desire to be called one.” Shiro chuckles a little and stands up. “So just call me Shiro.”

Lance swallows audibly. “Right. Okay. Thank you, Shiro.”

“No problem. See you later.”

Lance stares off into the void for so long that a librarian comes over to ask him if he’s okay.

-

“You never did regale us with the story of that time by the river,” Pidge says between licks of her ice cream as they aimlessly wander the grounds between the main school building and their dorm.

“And I never shall,” Lance replies, sticking his nose in the air with a “hmph.”

“Whatever, Snooty McSnooterson. I’ll get it out of you eventually. In the meantime, I’m gonna enjoy continuing to bring it up because of the way it makes you blush.”

“What?” Lance squawks. “I think you better get your eyes checked, young lady. Maybe you need a new prescription.”

“My 20-20 vision informs me that you are indeed blushing, dude,” Hunk says, laughing at the expression on his friend’s face.

“It’s just hot out here!” Lance says indignantly.

“It’s 55 degrees.”

“Exactly!”

“You are so hopeless,” Pidge says, shaking her head in a dramatic show of sorrow. “There is nothing more we can do for you. Come along, Hunk,” she says, reaching up to pat him on the back. “Our boy must now learn and grow on his own.”

“I’m a year older than you!” Lance yells as his two friends begin to walk away, snickering to each other. “There’s no way I’m your—holy shit!”

“Easy, tiger,” says Keith Kogane, who had apparently become one with a tree for a little while before transforming back into himself directly in front of Lance.

“Jesus, dude!” Lance huffs. “Where even were you?”

“Uhh, sitting right next to that tree, until you nearly stepped on me,” Keith says, raising his eyebrows.

Lance says nothing. Keith is wearing a leather jacket and dark jeans. Why can he get away with not following the uniform rules? Is it because he’s a senior? Maybe because he’s close with Shiro? Lance is only a junior, but if he keeps going to help sessions with Shiro, maybe Shiro would let him—

“An apology might be nice,” Keith says, his voice breaking through Lance’s thoughts.

“Oh,” Lance says, very, very distracted. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Keith looks at him. Lance looks back. He spots Pidge out of the corner of his eye. She’s giving him a thumbs-up. He covers his face with his hands.

Keith tilts his head. “Are you alright?” he asks, sounding like he might actually be concerned.

Lance peeks at him through his fingers. Keith’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, and Lance gives up. “Look, can we talk?” he says.

As he and Keith pass Pidge and Hunk, who are both trying and failing to look inconspicuous by casually leaning against the side of the dorm building, Lance catches Pidge mouthing “You loooove him,” and he rolls his eyes.

-

Lance called his mother at least once a week, usually twice. His family was very close-knit, and although he was usually of the opinion that there was no place he would rather be than at the Garrison, training to achieve his lifelong dream of becoming a pilot, he frequently felt homesick, especially after a conversation with his mom. He missed her and he missed his siblings, he missed his ancient dog and his familiar childhood home. On his twin siblings’ tenth birthday, he called home and was put on speakerphone so they could hear him sing the birthday song to them. But for some reason, that made him even more depressed. What must they be thinking, with him unable to be there in person? Of course they were old enough to understand that he was at school, thousands of miles away, unable to come home for every special occasion, but knowing that didn’t make him feel any better.

Keith had tried to talk to him in the hallway shortly after he had gotten off the phone, but he brushed him off, not in the mood for some sarcastic remark about what a wuss he was. He marched straight out of the dorm and broke into a run, not stopping until he reached the river that denoted the edge of campus. He sat down on the bank and absently picked up a stick, turning it over in his hands as he felt his eyes well up and his cheeks go warm. This was pathetic. He was sixteen. This was his third year at the Garrison. He should be used to this by now.

Tears slid down his face. He didn’t bother trying to stifle them or clean them up, just kept gazing out at the river through his fogged-up eyes.

“Hey.”

Lance whirled around, hurriedly wiping his eyes with his uniform sleeve. “What?” he said, voice thick.

“I, umm…” Keith kicked at a rock with the toe of his Converse. Even in the depths of his misery, Lance thought about how unfair it was that Keith could violate the dress code seemingly without any repercussions. “I don’t know what happened, but…” Keith ran a hand through his hair, let out a frustrated noise, and plopped down next to Lance, arms crossed.

Lance stared at him. He had stopped crying, he realized belatedly. “What are you doing?”

Keith glared at him. “Comforting you. Obviously.”

Lance was silent for a moment, then let out a bark of laughter.

“What?!” Keith asked, shifting uncomfortably in the dirt.

“You’re…” Lance started, laughing harder. “You’re not…” He gave up, surrendered to his giggles, and a tiny, lopsided smile appeared on Keith’s face.

Once the laughter had died down, Lance scooted closer to him, and Keith swallowed loudly. “You don’t need to tell me what happened, obviously. But I…I just…” He trailed off. Lance was looking at him in a way he was sure he had never been looked at before.

“Thank you,” Lance said finally, and rested his head on Keith’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

-

“Everyone thinks I like you,” Lance blurts, face flushing no matter how hard he tries to stay calm.

Keith shoots him a smirk, but it’s not nearly as cocky an expression as Lance is used to seeing from him. “That’s weird, given the number of times you’ve proclaimed to hate me.”

“When have I ever once—I was never being _serious_!”

Keith laughs, his own face tinting pink. “Shiro thinks I like you,” he says after a moment. Lance’s mouth falls open a little bit, and Keith keeps talking before he loses his nerve. “Actually, Shiro _knows_ I like you. Because I…I told him so.”

Lance stops walking, so Keith stops too.

“Are you bullshitting me?” Lance asks quietly, eyes seeming to bore holes through Keith’s own.

“I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Keith says, just as softly. It’s as if there’s a protective bubble around them, and all the commotion of students walking by and chattering loudly fades into unimportant background noise.

“Well,” Lance says, one hand coming up to partially cover his mouth, “everyone who thinks I like you…is wrong.”

In an instant, Keith’s expression shatters. Lance hurries to pick up the pieces and reassemble them. “I…fuck. I love you. There, I said it!” He cackles. “I did it!”

Keith’s tongue darts out to lick his lips as a grin slowly spreads across his face. “You scared me,” he says after a moment, taking a step closer to Lance.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just…” Lance flails his hands around, as if this will convey everything Keith needs to know. “I’m, you know, a little nervous. Your jacket is very intimidating.”

Keith laughs, deep and true, and the sound makes itself at home inside Lance’s head.

“You’re ridiculous,” Keith says. Lance draws closer to him and reaches for his hands. “Absolutely ridiculous…and I love you too.”

Pidge takes twenty-three pictures. Hunk cries.

-

“You were right,” Lance says later that week.

“I usually am,” his mom answers. Lance laughs, and she continues, “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Mom. I…I’m proud of myself too.”

“That’s my boy. I’ve gotta get going to work, but we’ll talk again soon, right?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Now you go get some studying done. Tell Keith I said hi.”

“Oh my God, Mom.”

“I’m serious! I want to make a good impression on him.”

“You couldn’t make a bad impression if you tried.”

Lance’s mom scoffs. “Flatterer. Bye, dear.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Keith isn’t standing outside the phone room door when Lance leaves, but he knows exactly where he is: sitting on the futon in Lance’s dorm room, playing video games with Hunk and Pidge and probably getting his ass handed to him. Lance grins as he approaches his door. Junior year was shaping up to be the best year of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> keith voice: easy, tiger B)
> 
> [talk to me on tumblr!](https://deadpan-snarker.tumblr.com)


End file.
